


Need for speed

by Alphawave



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: And specifically robots that make ziplines, And ziplines, Fluff and Humor, He's got specific tastes what can you say?, M/M, Octane may or may not be attracted to robot legs, Pathfinder drinks redbull because it gave him wings, Race, The crack ship that no one thought would take seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 02:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: Octane didn't think anyone could beat him in a race. He's almost given up on chasing the thrill of racing against a worthy competitor. That is, until Pathfinder comes along, and turns his world upside down.





	Need for speed

Need for speed

Octane had always prided himself for being fast. When he was in school, he was the track star and set the school’s record for the 100m and 200m. When the wind wrapped around his body and pushed behind him, the feeling of pushing limits, that ethereal warmth when you hit your perfect stride and taste the fruit of victory by the skin of your teeth, that was the real thrill. Everything in his life had been set up for that perfect rush, and although he got close, that incident cost him his legs. Still, he could run after that, and his rich parents’ inheritance was good for funding busted legs, not that he hasn’t gotten good at optimising his legs on a moment’s notice.

Back in the early days of his career as a daredevil streamer, he had a rather famous competition. If anyone could beat him in a foot race, he had to submit to whatever dare they concocted. He first started it with his friends who were also streamers, and promptly kicked their asses, and then a few of his audience reached out to him and offered to go on. It was a relatively easy way to gain donation and viewers, and there was usually no harm done to him. It got wackier as time went on. He was allowed as many jump pads and stims as he could carry, and his opponents could use any means necessary to beat him, provided they were not in a vehicle when they crossed the finish line. That lead to some intense racers, including a person who sky dived out of a helicopter, another guy who tried (and failed) to recreate the stunt that cost Octane his legs with less explosives, and a guy who brought in a literal chariot. The most interesting race so far was when this girl LITERALLY shot herself out of a cannon. She was the only winner of Octane’s race, and dared him to go on a date with him.

That day, Octane found out a little bit about himself. He was immensely, tremendously attracted to people who were faster than him.

Of course, the relationship with that girl didn’t really go anywhere, though she did remain a good friend and fellow streamer, and when he joined the Apex Games he was not allowed to participate in ‘risky behaviour outside of the main events’. AKA no fun.

At least his new temporary residence, which boasted some of the best athletic equipment in the system, had a good race track. With nothing to do, all he could do was run laps. And of course, ask his ultra best friend to time his laps for him.

“C’mon now, it’s been an hour. Ah haven’t had mah lunch yet,” Lifeline groaned. “Mama needs her food pyramid right now, with extra vitamins ta boot.”

Octane had just finished a lap and grabbed the stopwatch off Ajay’s hand. He had managed to shave one second off his time. “It’s not good, I’m still so pumped, so full of energy, and I haven’t even had a stim yet.”

“I’d tell ya those tings aren’t good for ya health, but that’d be like telling a chicken ta pluck its own feathers,” Lifeline commented.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna race? It'd be just like old times and it will be super fun and come oooonn, I’m so bored! Look at me.” Octane gestured wildly at the circuit. “I’m literally running around in circles for fun. Oh, please please _please_ have just one itsy bitsy race with me?”

“No way, man. Ya know I ain’t about that fast life. I’m not going ta tire myself out before the main event.”

Octane huffed. It was true that Lifeline wasn’t fast—well, not as fast as him anyway, but that didn’t used to stop her before when they were kids. Ever since she became a medic, and especially after she entered the games, she became more cautious, more worried about the health and safety of herself and her team. For the umpteenth time, Octane wondered why he still was such great friends with someone that was essentially his polar opposite and SO BORING.

It was then that Octane heard the clunking noises of metal on stone. He turned, and saw a strange MRVN approach. Octane was very familiar with the MRVN models, his family having a few as servants, but he did not recognise the model in front of him.  The two cylinders that emerged from his back was definitely unique, as was the wire wrapped around them, extending down its left arm to what appeared to be a grappling hook. The MRVN waved excitedly in their direction.

“I couldn’t help but hear that you wanted a race, friend. Mind if I join?”

Octane blinked rapidly. In all his years, he’s never heard a MRVN talk so…well, like a human. Talking MRVNs were a rarity, but they all had this distinct speech-to-talk quality to them, stringing words together that didn’t fit. This MRVN spoke so naturally, almost like it wasn’t a robot but a human man in some robot shell, like Ironman or something.

“Oh, I apologise, friend, I did not introduce myself.” He extended his arm. “My name is Pathfinder. I am also a legend in the Apex Games.”

The surprise of learning this robot was also a legend was quickly washed away with the excitement that Octane was about to race a robot. Everybody said robot legs were faster, right? He could put that to the challenge. He broke out into a grin, not that anybody could really see it, but did not respond to Pathfinder’s extended arm. “Hells yeah, you wanna race? You better be sure because I’m pretty fast.”

“I do not mind.Many of my teammates said that I am fast too, right as I left them in my dust—metaphorically and, one time, literally. Perhaps we will be evenly matched.”

If that was the case, that would be a dream come true, but it was probably not going to happen. Looking at the design of Pathfinder’s legs, it’s clear he’s an older model with a more lightweight frame but with less mobile legs. He’ll be fast for human standards, but Octane would beat him in a fair race.

His eyes glanced down at Pathfinder’s grapple, the wire glittering in the sun. In a fair race, he’d beat this bot, but what about an _unfair_ one?

“Yo, what’s that thing?” Octane pointed at Pathfinder’s grapple.

“This? This is my grappling hook. It allows me to propel forward and swing from objects.”

“And those cannister things on your back?”

“They are additional wire for when I deploy a zipline.” Pathfinder tilted his head, a question mark glowing on his chest. “Why do you ask?”

Octane smirked behind his mask. He knew ziplines had made a return because one legend kept making them around the arena. He might have just found said champion. “How about a bit of a different race, huh? You use those abilities for the games, so why not give them a whirl? Your grapples and ziplines versus my stims and jump pad? First one back here in three laps is the winner. Comprende?”

A smiley emoticon flashed on Pathfinder’s chest. As he bounced on his heels, Octane couldn’t help but think that maybe Pathfinder was just as excited for this race as he was. “This is going to be fun. I cannot wait for this match, friend.”

Lifeline stared at the two and smiled, shaking her head. “You boys go on now and get ta running. I’m gonna suntan over here and watch ya make fools of yourselves.”

“Not gonna announce the start?” Octane asked.

“You can do it,” she called out, already making herself comfortable.

Octane turned to Pathfinder as he got to the start line. While Octane was doing his pre-race warmups, Pathfinder was busy checking on his equipment. Battling against those things, Octane knew this was going to be a good race, if not the best race of his life. He adjusted his goggles, crouched into a start position, and waited for his breaths to slow. He closed his eyes for a moment and allowed all thoughts to drift away. When he opened his eyes, a grin spread across his face.

“Ready…set…go!”

For the first few metres, they’re neck and neck, but soon, Octane cleared past Pathfinder, and was rapidly gaining speed. Pathfinder behind him, while not gaining any speed, was not losing any either. The perks of being a robot: you never get tired. Lucky for Octane, that’s also the perks of having robotic legs himself.

As he’s half of the way down the first lap, Octane can hear Pathfinder slow behind him, followed by a rush of air. He turned back, only to see that Pathfinder had stopped to create a zipline, and was merrily gliding along. _I can do better,_ Octane thought, placing a jump pad down by his feet and leaping into the air, gaining momentum on the fall down and rolling as he landed. The momentum propelled him forward, making him faster.

The rush of the wind racing all around never failed to exhilarate him. He allowed himself to get caught up in it, to close his eyes and enjoy the moment. It was a bit disappointing that Pathfinder’s not as fast as he thought he was, but this is still good practice for the games, regardless. It’s curbed his boredom at the least. Still, just in case, he popped one stim into his arm. He’ll keep the others, if he needed them.

As Octane ran and ran, he finished one lap, then the second, and was just starting his final lap. He looked back and couldn’t help but chuckle. Pathfinder was at least half a lap behind him. “Better hurry, slowpoke,” he taunted. “You are making this too easy.”

Octane’s laughter got caught off as he heard the wind whip behind him and a grappling hook pierced the ground a few feet to his left. His eyes widen as he watched Pathfinder fly right beside him, one arm pointed at the ground, and the other behind him, a picture of radiant flight. Octane could feel the energy from Pathfinder’s jet stream, a strange feeling of surprise and euphoria filling his heart. The grapple let go, and Pathfinder flew. This tin can wasn't Ironman, no. This guy was Spiderman. Octane reached for his stim, but for once, he felt too slow and clunky as he watched Pathfinder soar in the sky, his arm outstretched for the zipline. He grabbed it, and sparks flew where metal touched metal.

The stim finally kicked in, and Octane felt like his feet were unstuck from the black tar. He ran as fast as he could, pushing himself to the absolute limit. He's never ran this fast before. Pathfinder had jumped off the zipline and plunged another grapple into the ground. Octane was keeping his momentum. As Pathfinder flew beside him, he suddenly felt the wildest of rushes, the opening of the heavens as his soul jumped off the tallest cliff. The wind caressed his body as he descended. His feet stomped on the finish line, his ears too full of blood and his vision blurry as the adrenaline finally left his body and he collapsed on the ground.

He gasped and panted, expecting the rush to fade away, but it didn’t. He looked up to Pathfinder, mouth agape but no words coming out. This has never happened before. The rush comes and goes as it pleases, that’s what makes it rush, but it still lingered, deep in his bones, imprinting on his lungs and heart and cheeks. He knew that Pathfinder was the cause, but how? Why Pathfinder?

“That was very close but I won.” Pathfinder’s smiley face emoji returned. “Sorry you lost…um…”

All of a sudden, Octane realised he never introduced himself. He quickly jumped up and rubbed the back of his head. “Octane! Octavio Silva. I, uh…call me whatever, man.” After an awkward pause, he added, “Good race. Best race.”

It’s weird to hear a robot laugh, but Octane found that he rather liked the sound for some reason. “It was definitely my favourite race so far. I hope to do it again some time.” He raised his hand up. “High-five?”

He never knew how oppressive the rush could feel as it tightened in his chest and made him all fluttery and jittery. This was familiar territory, a MRVN fishing a human for high-fives, but for some reason, this made him nervous. He stared at that metallic hand for longer than he dared admit, studying every facet from the formless cylinders he called fingers to the tiny little joints. For once, time went by too fast, his mind racing too fast for him to think of something to say. So he didn’t.

His palm clapped Pathfinder’s palm. That must have been all Pathfinder was expecting, because when Octane wrapped his fingers around Pathfinder’s hand an exclamation mark appeared on his chest. He thought for a moment that he saw a loveheart emoji pop up, but he wasn’t sure if that was real or a hallucination he conjured. Perhaps he was tired, or dehydrated, he convinced himself, even though he knew he could run marathons he was on top of the world.

When their hands drifted apart, it was slow, almost hesitant, like neither of them wanted to let go. Pathfinder was looking at him curiously now, and for once he wished he didn’t make fun of Mirage’s strange clone suit, because he just wanted to make himself go invisible and hide away somewhere far from here. It was irrational, he scolded himself, because he was still wearing his mask, and there was no way Pathfinder could see his face. But then it felt like that lens was looking past him, past the daredevil streamer and the physical body for the spiritual. Did MRVNs believe in souls? Do they even have the hardware capabilities to understand the concept of a soul?

Pathfinder was the first to speak, in a far quieter, even more human-like voice. “That was nice,” he said.

“S-sure.”

Octane felt this compulsive desire to ask Pathfinder what he would dare him to do, if he had placed his usual bet, but the possibilities all ran through his mind at once, many of which far too exciting to consider at the time being. Those thoughts were better left for when he's lying in bed.

Shaking his head rapidly to rid himself of his racing thoughts, he forced a grin and said, “Race you again next time?”

If robots could grin, Pathfinder’s was by far the most brilliant. “Definitely. Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time tomorrow,” uttered Octane, waving as Pathfinder walked away with a hop in his step. When he’s long gone does Octane suddenly realise that the rush was gone. He could finally breathe a little bit easier.

Lifeline approached Octane with a sneaky grin. “I saw ya there, ya big flirt.”

“Fl-flirt?” He asked nervously.

“Didn’t think ta robots ya thing.” She looked down at his feet. “Then again, ya always did say ya liked the robot legs.”

His eyes widen. “No no no no no, I do _not_ have a crush on Pathfinder.”

Lifeline smirked wickedly. “I did not say ya had a crush on him.”

As Lifeline relentlessly made fun of him, Octane learned a valuable lesson about himself that day. He was immensely, tremendously attracted to both people who were faster than him, and robotic legs. Unfortunately for him, Pathfinder fit both of that criteria.


End file.
